


Sunrise Greetings

by wigglebox



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Morning After, Spies & Secret Agents, barely mature rating but needed to put it there
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-01
Updated: 2016-04-01
Packaged: 2018-05-30 10:45:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6420709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wigglebox/pseuds/wigglebox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean is starting to appreciate mornings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sunrise Greetings

**Author's Note:**

> *This story was not beta'd. If you see a correction, kindly let me know!*
> 
> This is for the Supernatural Writing Challenge - March: Fanfic Tropes. My theme was: secret agent/spy/espionage AU. 
> 
> This is a small tiny snapshot of a much large story I'm still trying to explore! I was grateful for the prompt because it was related to the story and I was able to take a small dive into this world I want to expand on. 
> 
> Thank you for reading! <3

Dean Winchester couldn’t stand sunrises. They mocked him in the early morning when he returned from third shift, or after a night of drunken one night stands. Sunrises never greeted him with warmth.

But on this morning, the early morning rays gently stirred him awake. He faced the East River and an arm was draped over his middle in a beautiful apartment. Dean’s first night of good sleep in several years and it wasn’t even in his bed. 

It was the bodyguard’s. It was Castiel’s bed. The second in command of Heaven’s Best’s muscle guard and the man Dean swore to indict first when he brought the drug gang down to its knees.

Being a cop, Dean learned to keep the amount of people he could trust able to be counted on one hand. Until three months ago, he only trusted two: his brother, Sam, and their Uncle Bobbywho also was the head of the NYPD Detective Division and his boss. His father was shot in cross gang rivalry between Heaven’s Best and The 9 Devils, and Dean spent most of the past 4 years trying to hunt down the man who shot the bullet. For the longest time, Dean thought that man was the man who was currently snoring gently against the back of his neck.

The sun rose higher, peaking between the blinds. Dean figured he’d need to turn soon or the sun would hit him right in the eyes. He lifted his right arm slowly, pushing back the covers. Fingers slid over fingers and Dean lifted Cas’s hand half an inch. Dean shifted his shoulders around until he was facing a peacefully sleeping Cas.

Dean shoved down the bubbling doubt in his stomach. The part of him that sounded like his father, yelling at him for trusting the _enemy_.

Closing his eyes, Dean could imagine this being any other day. Him and Cas were individuals who met in a bar, took each other home for a romp in the sheets. Dean wouldn’t kick him out the next morning and instead maybe make some breakfast before they had to go off to work. They’d see each other day after day…

But no such luck. Cas was on the side that was going to be thrown in jail in a month or two. Cas was going to hate Dean with every fiber of his body and Dean was going to go back to an empty apartment with windows that over look the back alley dumpsters.

Cas lifted his hand off of Dean’s waist and rubbed his eyes. Dean briefly thought about feigning sleep, like he usually does mornings after, but his hammering heart kept them open. This was different.

“Good morning,” Dean murmured, lifting his hand to brush some hair out of Cas’s face.

Cas blinked sleepily and frowned at the gesture before lifting his head and looking around.

“I had a really good dream…” he muttered, dropping his head back into his pillow and covering his eyes with an arm. It was becoming clear to Dean that Cas was cranky in the morning, and that made Dean smile.

Cas lowered his arm and glanced at Dean in the early morning light.

“Sorry… I’m happy you’re here.”

Dean frowned, “Did you think I wouldn’t be?”

Dean felt Cas’s fingers touch the side of his face, almost too gentle, like Dean was going to break.

“I think…that I didn’t know what to expect. There’s still a lot we don’t know about each other.”

That was very true. Dean didn’t know what Cas’s favourite colour was and Cas didn’t know that Dean’s favourite TV show was Top Chef. Or that Dean was an undercover agent for the NYPD who wanted to see Cas’s whole family behind bars for life.

The doubt bubbled again. Sticky and black in his gut, working its way up to Dean’s heart. But Cas sighed and rubbed his eyes again, sitting up.

“I’m going to start breakfast, care to join me?” Cas pushed away the sheets showing just how good his dream really was along with his bare _everything_. He slid out of bed with grace and stretched, hands to the sky. Dean’s view was better than the sunrise. He watched Cas move across the room, picking up a bathrobe.

“If you keep that off, I’ll let you fuck me on the sofa again.” Dean heard himself say, barely registering the words. He sat up and reached for his toes under the covers in a long stretch as well. He felt Cas’s eyes on him and it made him flush. He’s never been around someone who paid so much attention. He met c’s gaze, and saw Cas was also pink in the face.

Cas thew the bathrobe back on the laundry basket. “Only if you help me make the pancakes.”

 


End file.
